


Magick To Do

by MaraLan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Lore - Freeform, Nightsister Magick, Nightsisters (Star Wars), Post-Canon, Self-Harm, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force, merrical - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraLan/pseuds/MaraLan
Summary: In which Cal and Merrin talk about the dark side, and Cal learns a new ability.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	Magick To Do

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to start exploring what would happen if Cal started teaching Merrin the Jedi way and Merrin taught Cal magick. Tried to be as accurate as possible to canonical Nightsister magick. If people find this interesting, I will write some more about Cal and Merrin's Force-collaboration.

Cal inhaled the chilly morning air, and felt his focus start to slip again. It was Merrin, a few paces to his right. She had joined him in his meditation practice on the grassy mesa above their Bogano hideout, but he almost wished she hadn’t, because even with his eyes shut and the constant white noise of distant insects buzzing, she was distracting him. Her scent, perhaps. It was something he could never quite place. A little musty, aromatic, with a tangy bite to it. 

He gave himself a shake, deciding that he had meditated long enough, and that he would try again later, maybe when Merrin was out exploring, which she usually did alone for a few hours every day. She opened her eyes when she heard him move, and moved over to sit closer to him. 

"You know, you've been teaching me about the Jedi way of touching the Force, but I haven't been teaching you any magicks," she said. 

"I didn't think I would be able to learn. Doesn't magick use the dark side of the Force?" 

"Dark side, light side, is there really such a clear divide?" She asked, shaking her head. 

"Yes," he answered firmly.

"Dathomir was— is— the source of our magick. It was all I had ever known. I had no concept of the light side until Malicos told me about it. But the way I understand it, both dark and light can give you power. Both can create or destroy. It's about how you use it.” She reached out and brushed her fingers across the back of his hand. “You are very strong with the Force, Cal. I know there is a lot we can learn from each other.” 

“But didn’t Malicos try to learn magick from you? And he lost his mind,” Cal remarked. 

“Not exactly,” Merrin said. “He wasn’t interested in learning the craft. Only tapping into the dark side. The longer he stayed on Dathomir, the more corrupted he became. Soon he believed himself to be more powerful than me. He had little interest in learning magick after that.” 

Cal considered this for a long time. “Say I did try to learn magick. How would I start?" he asked finally.

Merrin pulled out her talisman, the broken half-sphere that she sometimes used to channel her magick. "Nightsisters can summon ichor, which is the spirit of Dathomir, the essence of its power. That is the green light you see when I use magick. The ichor that Nightsisters can conjure is said to come from the core of the planet itself. I was skeptical of that fact, but since I have left, it has been more and more difficult to summon the ichor, as if it is far away.” 

Cal was surprised to hear this. “I would have never guessed. You seem as powerful as ever,” he said. She gave him a warm glance, but continued. 

“I know that we use the Force to conjure the ichor, but in truth, I don’t know how much of my power is my own and how much comes from the ichor. But I want to find out. That is part of the reason I am meditating with you.” 

“That’s good, Merrin. Maybe you can learn to use the light side.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “I am trying to hold onto my power, Cal. I am trying to hone it. I’m not interested in choosing a side. I’m not convinced the sides exist. Look at what happened with Cere in the Inquisitorius,” her voice softened, and he wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or for Cere’s. “She was able to hold off Darth Vader for a time. She was able to stop him from killing you. Don’t you believe that was a good thing?” 

Cal blinked. “Well she shouldn’t have done that by using the dark side,” he answered, hearing his own doubt in his voice. 

Merrin shook her head again with a sad smile.

“Here, take this.” She took his right hand. He met her eyes, almost pulling away. He knew what she was doing. “Trust me.” She placed her talisman in his palm. 

Cal felt the fractals of Force energy flow into him, and found himself in a Force vision. He, as Merrin, strode arm-in-arm through a forest of gnarled blood-colored trees with Ilyana, laughing and brewing delicious potions that made everything seem to dance with color.

Joyful, intoxicating love. Then the sharp pain and fear of destruction. Nightsister after Nightsister fell in the great battle. The battle itself was over in an instant. Wrapping and embalming the body of each fallen sister one by one took an eternity. Merrin said a prayer for each as she laid them to rest. 

Then came the loneliness, mourning, and anger. It was blinding, burning him— her— alive. Then when Malicos came, a glimmer of hope that someday all that anger would come to fruition. 

All throughout the echoes he could feel an undercurrent of strange, sickly energy. The ichor was warm on his fingers, and he could feel the thousands of incantations reverberating in the rounded talisman, ringing in his head. The strong, unfamiliar energy was almost too much for him to hold. He dropped the talisman in the grass, breaking the connection. 

Merrin searched his face expectantly. 

“You really loved her,” he whispered. She was taken aback, but the pain in her eyes said it all. His life as a Jedi had been ripped away suddenly, and he had to adjust so quickly that he had barely had time to mourn their loss. Merrin had lived on Dathomir, surrounded by the graves of her fallen sisters, for years. No wonder she had wanted to leave Dathomir with him. 

“I didn’t really intend for you to see… everything,” she admitted. “I just wanted you to feel what it was like to summon the ichor.” 

Cal ran a hand through his hair, trying to take it all in. The ichor was summoned with the Force, controlled with the Force, but in and of itself it seemed… alive somehow. And that life felt sickening, like eating rotten fruit. 

“I felt it, Merrin. But it definitely feels like the dark side. I don’t know if I would be able to do it.” 

“The ichor responds to power and emotion,” Merrin said, drawing a circle in the air and conjuring a ball of the green mist. “Try thinking of something that makes you feel great joy or sorrow. See if you can make the ichor react.” 

They tried the exercise for a long time. Bogano’s sun rose steadily above them, warming gently. Cal tried to move the ichor with all kinds of emotions… Sadness about the death of his master, anger at the Empire, fear for the future, and even the happiness he had found with Merrin. Nothing worked. 

“Let’s try something else,” Merrin said finally. She divided the ball of ichor in half, leaving one floating in front of Cal, and the other stretched out to become a long dagger in her hand. 

“The first thing that a young Nightsister learns is how to heal a wound,” she said, slicing a deep cut across her own forearm. She winced as she drew the knife away, red with blood. 

“Merrin, what are you doing?” Cal exclaimed. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

She held out her arm, stonefaced. Cal tried using the Force again, willing the ichor to move. He reached out and touched it with his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to feel the same warmth that he had felt in his force vision. Again, nothing. 

“Merrin, I can’t do it. Please, heal yourself! Please,” he begged. 

Her eyelids fluttered slightly and her lips pursed as she shook her head in refusal. She was still holding the ball of ichor in front of him. A small pool of blood was starting to form on the grass beneath her outstretched arms. Cal moved around the ichor and grabbed her arm, ripping a strip of fabric from his poncho to use as a bandage. She moved away from him.

“I won’t accept that, Cal. Only the ichor.” She brandished the knife threateningly over her arm again. He dropped the fabric. “This is ridiculous, Merrin,” he said, trying in vain to grasp the ichor. She cried out as she drew the second cut across her arm, and the sound hit him like a punch in the gut. 

Then suddenly, he could sense it. Something snapped in his body, and the ichor became tangible to him, as if they had just begun vibrating on the same frequency. The extra layer of power that the ichor slid over him like a glove. It didn’t feel at all like what he had felt in the Force vision. Manipulating the ichor felt good, in an invigorating way.  
Without hesitation he pushed the ichor onto Merrin’s blood-soaked arm, and coated the green mist onto her wounds like a salve. He softened the ichor, willed it to close up her wounds and stop the blood. He funneled all the life-giving energy into her, gently but thoroughly. 

He knew he was done even before the last of the ichor faded away. Merrin took a few deep breaths, running her fingers over the two white lines where the cuts used to be. “You didn’t quite manage to erase the scars,” she commented, running a swirl of newly-formed ichor over her arm to correct his work. “But it was very good for your first attempt. You were very gentle. Usually being healed with ichor is quite painful.” 

Cal stood up. “Don’t you think that was a little cruel?” he asked her bitterly. 

She met him at eye level. “Nightsister magick is cruel, Cal. Believe me, this was nothing compared to a real Nightsister initiation. Besides, it worked. You were able to manipulate the ichor.” She stood, stepping closer to him. She put a hand to his cheek cautiously. 

“I was never in any real danger, Cal. I was just trying to teach you.” 

“Well, I’m not sure I want to learn anymore,” he said, stepping away from her. That wasn’t true. Even now, after all the stress it had caused him, he wanted to touch the ichor again. The feeling had fascinated him, and he really only had a taste. It had felt really good, and the fact that it felt so good was concerning. 

He softened his tone. “I just need some time,” he said, reaching for her arm. Aside from the smudges of blood, there was no sign of any wound. The knot that had formed in his stomach was starting to unwind. 

Greez poked his head out of the entrance to their hideout. “Hey kids, I made some lunch! Come on down!” He shouted.

“Coming,” Cal yelled back, and turned to Merrin one more time. 

“Promise me that you won’t do that again. We will find a different way to practice,” he demanded. 

She raised an eyebrow. “So there will be more practice, then?” she asked. 

Cal didn’t answer. He was in no hurry to work that out.


End file.
